Friday, March 9, 2018

100 Words a Day 1143

She put her hand on the tree. Its life energy was sluggish, not wane. It was waiting for the invigorating touch of spring air before it would stir itself. The taste of the nutrients in the soil crackled across her tongue and the sun warmed her skin all over, even though she stood in the shadow of the massive tree. Something touched her neck. She didn’t flinch, recognizing the sensation of a squirrel stirring in its den high overhead. She looked up, locating the clump of leaves and made a chittering noise. The squirrel’s poked out and it chittered curiously.

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